Interview with the Vampire
by blackkitty95
Summary: AU. A vampire named Will tells his life story to a reporter. Will describes his first kill and evolving relationships with Hannibal Lecter, his maker, and Abigail, their daughter. Unlike Abigail and Hannibal who revel in murderous bloodshed, Will is tormented by a moral dilemma—he believes it is wrong to kill, but he must kill to eat.
1. Chapter 1

I thought that I would never write fanfiction again, and yet here I am. Blame it on my immeasurable love for Hannigram, my feels after the season finale, and of course tumblr. This idea is taken from the **tumblr** user **lesbianvamp**, who made an amazing gifset for this AU.

This story is not going to be just a copy of _Interview with the Vampire_ with only the names changed, but it will be heavily based on it. You don't need to have read Anne Rice's book or the film based on it.

This is unbeta'd. You might find some mistakes because English is not my native language and I tend to type rather fast.

Sadly, I own nothing.

Enjoy and let me know what you think of it!

* * *

"How much tape do you have with you?" the man asks. "Enough for the story of a life?"

"Sure, if it's a good life. Sometimes I interview as many as four people a night if I'm lucky. But it has to be a good story."

The man nods, his face neutral, his blue eyes empty of emotion. "I would like to tell you the story of my life then," he says. "I would like to do that very much."

"Great." She removes the small tape recorder from her brief case, making a check of the cassette and the batteries. This interview seems to be very promising, and she doesn't want to miss a thing. "Okay, I'm really anxious to hear you story, why you believe-"

"No," the man says abruptly. "We can't begin this way. No, no. It's not right. This is not my design...Is your equipment ready?"

"Yes," she replies, trying to ignore the fact that he has just told her how to do her job.

"Good. Then sit down. I'm going to turn on the overhead light."

Her first thought is to note that vampires aren't supposed to like the light. But it sounds stupid in her head. Everything about this whole situation is absurd, almost ridiculous. This man claims to be a vampire. The only reason why Freddie is interested in his story is because she might get the chance to talk to a lunatic. She could write a great book about him and make loads of money.

The man moves towards the table and reaches for the overhead cord. The room is flooded with a harsh yellow light. But no matter the kind of light, Freddie would not have been able to suppress her gasp at the sight.

The man is utterly white and smooth, as if he is sculpted from bleached bone. The total paleness of his skin makes a lovely contrast with his dark brown curls. His eyes are like the sea under this light, blue and endless. Now she can appreciate just how inanimate his face is. He looks like a statue.

"I...I'm sorry," she manages to say. "I didn't mean to offend you."

The man smiles, and the smooth white substance of his face moves with the infinitely flexible but minimal lines of a cartoon. "Don't worry about it," he says. "I have experienced worse reactions. Now, do you still want this interview, Miss Lounds?"

"Yes."

"I am pleased to hear it. Oh, by the way, I should tell you my name. Not introducing myself is rude, and a dear friend of mine found discourtesy unbelievably ugly. I will tell you quite a lot about him soon, as he has played a major part in my life. But until we get to him, my name is Will Graham."

Freddie nods. She doesn't know what to say. Or what to do. She is not sure that she believes this man to be a vampire as he claims, but he most definitely isn't an ordinary human being.

"Don't be afraid," he says. "Just start the tape."

It takes a moment for her to find her courage, to stammer that the microphone is in the machine, to press the button, to say that the machine is on. During that time, the man named Will Graham is sitting collected, waiting. He looks like he can wait forever, and maybe he can. Freddie has interviewed dangerous people before, but this is different. This man doesn't even seem to belong to the people category.

"You weren't always a vampire, were you?" she asks.

"No," Will Graham says. "As far as I know, vampires are made, not born. Of course, after all this time, I still don't know everything about my nature...I was thirty one when I became a vampire, and the year was seventeen ninety-one."

She is startled by the preciseness of the date. There are people who can't even remember what they had for lunch yesterday. But this man is not just people, she tells herself. If his story is true, he is an ancient and dangerous creature.

"Tell me your story."

"I will, Miss Lounds. Every good story starts with a tragedy, does it not? It all began after my brother's death. I haven't told anyone about this and do not wish to talk about it tonight either. Instead, let me focus your attention to the man that changed my life forever."


	2. Chapter 2

Anne Rice has Louis tell the whole story. Instead I chose to describe Will's story in third person using past tense (as opposed to the present tense used in the scenes between Will and Freddie).

Enjoy!

* * *

His life in Louisiana was both luxurious and primitive. He lived far better than he could have ever lived in France. The sheer wilderness of Louisiana was extremely attractive.

But he no longer cared about that.

He had laughed at his brother for the god-sent visions he claimed that he was having. He had not believed him. He had not been kind to him as one brother should be to the other.

His brother had died because of him, and no one could convince him otherwise.

He wanted to sell the plantations, never wanting to see the house or the oratory again. They had turned from places of warmth and comfort to places of horror and nightmare.

He could not escape his brother, constantly thinking of his body rotting in the ground, eaten away by maggots. What the slaves of his plantations had begun to talk about did not help at all. They said that they had seen his brother's ghost in the gallery. Will did not believe in ghosts, but listening to the slaves' words and stories ached him to the bone.

So he did the only thing that he could think of: he drank all the time and stayed at home as little as possible. He lived like a man who wanted to die but had no courage to do it himself (this summed up his life perfectly). He wandered to black streets and dark alleys alone. He passed out in cabarets. He wished to be murdered. His invitation was open to anyone - sailors, thieves, maniacs, absolutely anyone. But in the end it was a vampire that accepted it.

* * *

"This really happened, didn't it?" Freddie whispers. The man has her at the edge of her seat already. He knows how to tell the story. What to say, what to save for later, how to describe things. And his almost complete apathy as he unravels the story of his life makes everything even more intriguing.

"Yes," he says, looking at her without surprise. "I want to go on telling you."

* * *

One night, after yet another failed attempt to make someone kill him, he left the tavern he was in with a whore. He was so drunk and so indifferent to life that he had no idea where they were going - and he did not care. She had taken his arm and draped it over her shoulders, while her own arm was around his waist. He walked with her obediently, hoping that her pimp (or someone anyway) would come after them and kill him.

He felt his back hit a wall and heard the hooker's voice. He did not hear her words, but he was certain that they were sweet nothings. She kneeled in front of him.

But instead of feeling her mouth around his cock, he felt a knife on his throat.

"Your money or your life," a man said.

He had barely any time to register what was happening. Then he saw two hands around the man's throat and heard the snap as the head got turned and the bones broke.

Unsupported by either the hooker or the cutthroat, Will fell down. He heard a woman scream and then the same snap and crack as with the cutthroat.

And then, someone was looming over him. He could tell that it was a man, with long, blondish brown hair tied back with a bow. That was all he could distinguish through the haze of the alcohol and because of the limited time that he was given.

Then he felt long, sharp teeth break the skin of his neck.

He knew that he should feel pain, that this was the normal reaction he should have. But he did not react like that at all. He was glad that someone was finally killing him. Death felt so sweet. There was no pain. Only something close to pleasure.

The man wrapped his arms around Will and lifted him up, never stopping sucking at his pulse point. Will suddenly felt that what was happening was wrong, but he was too weak to do anything about it.

The man started moving in circles, with Will pressed close to him. It was like they were two lovers dancing. Will felt that he was in the arms of an angel that was finally giving him the death that he had been craving.

* * *

"The vampire...is he the man that changed your life as you said?"

Nostalgia appears on Will's pale and handsome face for a while. Freddie is astonished by such human reaction, but she is also aware that she has her answer already even though the man before her has not yet spoken.

"Yes," he says.

"Because he turned you into a vampire?"

"That was the first reason, yes. More reasons followed throughout the years."

Freddie nods. "Carry on with your story," she says politely. This is a very interesting interview.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Will's mouth as if he is pleased that she is not rushing things. "Well," he carries on, "he left me there, between life and death. He had drunk a lot of my blood, you see, but he didn't kill me. Somehow, in my poor state, I managed to return home. I was put to bed immediately, confused and unaware of what had happened to me. I believed that I had dreamed of the man, that drink had given me hallucinations or caused a stroke. I expected to die any time soon and had no interest in eating or drinking or talking to the doctor. They bled me in order to cure me, which was not very pleasant."

"That must have nearly killed you, given the blood loss."

Will chuckles darkly. "Indeed," he agrees. "I believe that I would have died, but the vampire came back the night after our encounter. It was very late. He came in from the courtyard, opening the French doors without a sound. He had such a graceful quality in his movements - oh, if only you could see that elegant bastard..."

* * *

Will coughed. He was in so sorry a state. Why couldn't he just die and be done with it?

Then he realised that someone was in the room.

He grabbed his pistol, ready to shoot the unknown presence if necessary. "Who are you?" he asked hoarsely. "What are you doing in my house?"

The presence did not answer, and in a state of panic Will shot at it.

That was when he saw. The man was not a burglar or some other sort of criminal, but the man he had dreamed of. Or thought he had dreamed of, because he looked very real now. His hair was as he remembered. His eyes were honey brown. His cheekbones were high, his lips thin and sensual, his jaw prominent.

The bullet had found his right palm. He looked at his injured hand and laughed. Then he looked at Will. "You're strong and brave, I like that. Fortunately you didn't ruin my clothes."

And then, with the fingers of his other hand, he reached into his palm and dug the bullet out. Will watched in horror and let his pistol fall on the bed, apparently useless. Meanwhile, the man's wound had healed.

"What are you?" Will whispered.

"Wouldn't you like to know my name first?" the man teased. He had a thick accent that Will could not place. "I am Hannibal Lecter. I have come to answer your prayers."

Will began to relax at the sound of the other man's voice. It was as if he had worked some sort of magic on him.

The man began to move, getting closer to Will. "Life has no meaning anymore, does it? The wine has no taste, the food sickens you." He looked and sounded almost sad.

The man stepped really close to Will's bed and leaned down so that his face was in the lamplight. He was no ordinary man at all. His eyes were maroon now and burned with an incandescence.

"What if I could give it back to you?" he asked. "Rid you of the pain and give you a new life? One you could never possibly imagine. And it would be for all time. Sickness and death would never touch you again."

Will was transfixed. He saw this man, his extraordinary aura and knew him to be no creature he'd ever known. He was reduced to nothing. Nothing mattered anymore, not even his burning desire to die. All that mattered was this man, Hannibal.

Will knew that he had a choice, that accepting this new life was not inevitable. And yet, he could not refuse. He completely forgot himself, so engrossed he was in Hannibal.

Hannibal gently helped him off the bed. He wrapped an arm around Will's waist, and together they got out of the house. They started walking in the garden as though they were friends or even lovers.

"If you follow me," Hannibal said, "if you walk down this path of life with me, you will be an extraordinary human being, as you were always meant to be. You will never be weak again. You will have all the comforts of life. You will be happy."

Will had forgotten what it was like to be happy. His brother hadn't been dead for that long, yet he felt that centuries had passed. Could he truly be happy again?

And he would have all the comforts in life. Food, drink, and security in comformity. Those were the gods of most men. Will was not particularly religious, and he could now see that those were his gods as well.

Hannibal stopped and stepped in front of Will. He held his face between his hands. "What is your choice?" he asked. "Will you join me?"

"Yes," Will said.

Hannibal's face lit up with joy. Will was mesmerised by him.

"But I have one thing to ask before I become what you are: my last sunrise."

Hannibal smiled. "You shall have it."


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the late update, blame Uni._

* * *

This was it: his last sunrise. The light came first to the tops of the French windows, a paling behind the lace curtains, and then a gleam growing brighter and brighter in patches among the leaves of the tall trees. Finally the glowing sun came through the windows and the lace lay in shadows on the floor.

He took a deep breath and said farewell to sunrise. He knew that, as a vampire, he would not be able to see the sun again. He would have to stay in the shadows.

* * *

"Do you miss it?" Freddie asks.

"Not really. The memory of this last sunrise is enough. It's funny because I remember that one so vividly but can't seem to recall any other sunrise before it."

"And did you regret accepting Hannibal's offer?"

Will looks out the window. The vampire's face barely ever show any sign of emotion, but Freddie has learned how to read people long ago. It's obvious that the vampire is torn, not quite sure how to answer. There is pain there, but also gratitude.

"It's complicated," he says in the end. "I can't just tell you yes or no. Hannibal changed my life completely and in more ways than one, I can tell you that much with absolute certainty. And now let me tell you how things happened."

* * *

This must be the most difficult part of his change, he knew. Wishing to die and watching as someone else died were two very different things. But Hannibal insisted that it was necessary: he had to witness and approve the taking of a human life as proof of his commitment. Only after that could he be ready for what was to come.

They found the man in a dark and deserted street. He tried to throw Hannibal away, but he failed. He struggled inside Hannibal's grasp, but it was of no use. Hannibal's fangs broke the skin of his neck, and Will gasped. He wasn't sure whether he was watching in horror. He felt mostly numb at the time.

Drained of blood, the man went limp and died. Hannibal let go of him and he fell on the ground like a rag doll. The vampire looked at Will, smiling, blood coating his lips. There was something savage but beautiful at that sight, and as Hannibal licked the blood off his lips Will was overwhelmed by the sudden desire to lick him clean himself.

He pushed these impulses away as they took care of the body. They tore his coat, stole his money and stained his lips with liquor. Will had never been particularly social, so he didn't know who this man was and whether he had a family; however, he was certain that people would mourn him and would never even know what had truly happened to him.

Those thoughts were chased away as they carried on with their proceedings. As the beat the body, bruising the face and the shoulders, Will became more and more excited. He wanted his new life to begin. His new life with Hannibal. The vampire was such an extraordinary being. He was like an angel.

Will felt that he should wish to die. To die and not live again as something greater than human. He was guilty of murder.

And yet, he did not leave. He was excited. His new life was so close that he could almost taste it. He let Hannibal take him to the carriage and said nothing until they reached home. Everything paled before Hannibal's presence, before Will's enchantment with him.

Will got out of the carriage and walked to the brick stairs where his brother had fallen. He sat down on the lower steps and Hannibal lay down beside him, his movement so graceful and so personal that it made Will think of a lover. He wanted to look away, ashamed by his own thoughts, but Hannibal put his right arm around him and pulled him close to his chest. He had never been this close to Hannibal and he simply could not look away: in the dim light there was a magnificent radiance in his maroon eyes.

Will tried to move, but Hannibal pressed his cold fingers against his lips and held him firmly. "Be still, William. I am going to drain you to the point of death now. I want you to be so quiet that you can almost hear the flow of blood through your veins and the flow of that same blood through mine. Don't let go, don't slip. Your consciousness must keep you alive."

Will looked into those maroon eyes. This being, this beautiful and extraordinary being, was going to give him a rare gift. At that moment he wondered why. Why had he been chosen?

Then he felt Hannibal's teeth into his neck.

He gasped. Every light coming from the house coalesced and began to shimmer and blur. "Keep your eyes open," Hannibal whispered to him, his lips moving against Will's neck, as if he knew that Will was just going to close his eyes.

The movement of Hannibal's lips raised the hair all over his body and sent a sensation through all of him that was just like the pleasure of passion. Having difficulty in communicating with other people and not feeling comfortable inside his own skin, Will had deprived himself of that pleasure almost entirely. And yet, there he was now, feeling it more intensely than ever.

Within minutes he was weak to paralysis. It felt like he was dying. Hannibal was still holding him, and his arm was like the weight of an iron bar. Will was trapped.

Hannibal's teeth withdrew softly, barely causing any pain to Will. Hannibal bent over his head, took his right hand off him, and bit his own wrist. He held it up, over Will's lips. When a drop fell on Will's tongue, he reached out for the bleeding hand almost like a blind man. His mouth closed over Hannibal's self-inflicted wound and he started drinking.

"Steady," the vampire whispered.

Will followed his instructions. He sucked the blood out of the holes, experiencing for the first time since infancy the special pleasure of sucking nourishment. The taste of the blood was intoxicating and addictive. He thought he heard Hannibal groan once, but it might have actually been him. It didn't matter. What did matter was the blood.

And then there was this sound. A dull roar at first and then a pounding like the pounding of a drum. And then there came the pounding of another drum, giving no notice to the rhythm of the first. The sound grew louder and louder until it overwhelmed him, until it took over all his senses. It was throbbing in his lips and fingers, in the flesh of his temples. But, above all, in his veins.

* * *

"What were they - the drums?"

"The first one was my heart," Will replies, "the second was Hannibal's. We exchanged blood. He took my life and gave me a new one. The sound of our heartbeats was overwhelming, but it was the beginning of everything. The hearing of a vampire is much stronger than that of human."

"Can you hear my heartbeat?"

"Yes," Will says with a wolfish grin.

Freddie knows that her heart has begun to beat faster at the sound of his words. She hates it. She doesn't want him to think that she's weak, that she's afraid of him.

"I won't hurt you," he says soothingly and the expression on his face is almost affectionate. "I want this opportunity."

Freddie clears her throat. "The tape is almost gone. I have to turn it over." The vampire watches patiently as she changes it. "Go on. What happened then?"

"I saw as a vampire. Hannibal had changed: filled with life and blood he was radiant...Everything had changed. It was as if I had not been able to see colours and shapes before. Everything looked beautiful, magical. Fortunately I had with Hannibal with me, or I would have fallen so madly in love with the night that I would have lost my way."

"And...that was it? You had transformed?"

"Not entirely. My body was not yet totally converted, and as soon as I became accustomed to the sounds and sights, it began to ache. All my human fluids were being forced out of me."

"You were dying as a human."

Will nods and looks almost pleased that Freddie understands. She didn't believe in the supernatural before now, but she's actually quite clever. "Exactly," he says. "However, I was completely alive as a vampire. With my awakened senses, I felt everything to the maximum. I had to preside over the death of my body with discomfort and, finally, fear."

It was almost cathartic to know that this perfectly collected creature of the night was scared of its own change. It almost brought a sadistic smile on Freddie's face, but she realised that the vampire would not like it. "What happened then?" she asked.

"Hannibal tried to comfort me. Told me that it happened to everyone, advised me to see it as yet another great experience. It was not easy, but I supposed I kinda managed...Until he showed me the coffin."

Freddie raises an eyebrow. "Coffin?" she asks, trying not to sound disbelieving but not fully managing.

"Yes, that is true. I panicked. I have never been claustrophobic, but sleeping in a coffin is not something that I found very pleasant at the time. What made things even worse was the fact that Hannibal hadn't purchased a coffin for me, so we had to...share his."

Homosexual vampires? This sounds very interesting, Freddie thinks. "I see..."

Will looks at her threateningly. She manages not to cower before him, although he must be able to hear her heart racing again. The expression slowly changes until there is no emotion on his handsome face again. "It wasn't like that. Quite soon I found out that vampires can't...Vampires are dead, so we..."

The vampire's awkwardness actually amuses her, but she decides to help out in the end. "I see...And did you sleep in the coffin?"

"Yes. It felt crowded and I panicked, but then Hannibal held me and I relaxed. That close to me I could see his face so clearly...He held me and whispered things to a language I didn't know until my eyes closed and I surrendered myself to sleep."

* * *

_Ha, I made it! Didn't expect to be done with this so soon. Sadly I don't know when the next update will be (yes, blame Uni again) but don't lose hope. Thank you all for your support so far, I hope I won't disappoint you :) _


	4. Chapter 4

_If you thought that I had abandoned this story...you were right. But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, inspiration struck! It's been a year and two months since my last update (a really old pen name of mine is used in the cover that I made), and I'm terribly sorry for that. But if you're still sticking with me and this story, thank you! I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the ride!_

* * *

Will had never been particularly fond of the sunlight. The sun made everything brighter, clearer. He could perfectly see every little detail on people's faces, the tiniest hint of emotion. He hated it. Could he read people, even total strangers, as easily as one would read a book? Did he sense things, have hunches? Was he possessed? Did he have any special powers? He didn't know. He doubted the last two scenarios could be true - he had never been a man to believe in the spiritual, in a higher power, and so on.

Will had always preferred the night. The cloak of darkness concealed things and during the late hours awkward, anti-social Will Graham could have something that resembled peace.

Now, however, knowing that the sun would never touch his skin again, he wanted to see. He wanted to see his last sunrise before he truly became a creature of the night.

There was something frightening but also exciting about knowing that he would never see the sun again. He was privileged. He was aware that a change would take place, a change that would not leave him the same. Most people died without doing so many things they wanted to. Will had been forewarned. And yet, all he wanted was to see the magnificence of the sun. He was a simple man.

And when he woke as a changed man, the sun didn't matter anymore. Neither did his old life. He had been reborn, transformed into a higher creature. Hannibal had o generously and selflessly offered him a great and rare gift.

And now Will was hungry.

* * *

"So it's true," Freddie interrupts, unable to control herself. "Vampires drink blood."

Will's barely-there smile makes her own blood freeze in her veins. "Indeed," he says. "We can't be nourished any other way. If a vampire does not feed for a certain period of time - depending on the vampire's age - they wither, become nothing more than flesh and bones. However, I do not think that a vampire can starve to death."

"How did you feel about having to drink blood?" Freddie asks, breathless. Someone else would be disgusted, appalled, perhaps frightened. However, she is intrigued, excited even.

Will shrugs, making the gesture full of grace somehow. "I supposed that I should feel repulsed by the very idea. But the hunger was too great. It was like a powerful ache, deep in my bones. My craving was a strong force; I felt like the blood was calling me. The blood is the life!"

Freddie can't help but smirk at the quote taken from Bram Stoker's Dracula and spoken in a hoarse voice. "Please, carry on."

"You see, the thing about Hannibal is that he didn't just kill random people. Oh no, he had a list of future victims. Some of them were criminals - thieves, cutthroats, and the like. Others were...well, exceptionally rude. And Hannibal Lecter did not tolerate rudeness."

* * *

The two men were extremely discourteous, according to Hannibal. They spoke offensively to people, especially women, were mean to little children, and sometimes, when no one - apart from Hannibal, but they did not know that - was watching, they stomped on people's gardens, crushing beautiful flowers beneath their merciless boots.

Will did not care much about the men's insults to humanity. He was too busy being hungry. At the same time, he was also too busy looking at the world with his new eyes. Now that his transformation was complete, everything seemed even more impressive. He felt like he had been almost blind all his human life, not being able to see even a quarter of the beauty the world around him had to offer.

Sight, hearing, smelling, touching - all his senses were stronger. Now he only had to try taste.

And try he did. As a vampire, he was as quiet as a shadow. Their victims knew they were there only when it was too late, only when their cold arms were already around their warm human bodies. Will had expected to feel as inexperienced as a virgin on her wedding night, but instinct led on instead. He bit into the man's soft neck and felt his life nectar flow in his mouth and down his throat. It made Will's taste buds explode; the new vampire was certain that he moaned at least once during his feeding.

The drums came again. He could hear his victim's heart beating fast in an attempt to keep the man alive. He could feel his own heart beating almost as fast, excited. At some point, the one drum began to beat slower and slower, its music fading. Will did not pay that any mind, but he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, gently but firmly disentangling him from his victim.

"Never drink until the heart stops," Hannibal advised in the dark, "unless you want to join your victim to their doom."

A part of Will wanted more, but he nodded. He did not want to die. Not now. He had so much to learn, so much to do. His new life had only just begun and there were so many new experiences waiting for him.

They walked among the humans, arm in arm, and got no weird looks. No one had any idea, any suspicion, that they were something different, not human at all. Monsters in human suits, walking among humans as if they were just like them. It made Will laugh.

Hannibal raised any eyebrow and looked at him, curious and amused. "What is it, Will?" he asked.

"We feed on them and walk among them and they don't even know."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Hannibal's well-defined face. "To them, we are two rosy-cheeked men taking a stroll. Feeding leaves us warm and as alive-looking as possible," he explained. "If we had chosen to feed an hour before getting back in the coffin, we would look sickly to them, too pale. You, Will, being a new-born vampire would appear to them as a man who should be in his deathbed, white as a ghost, your skin as thin as parchment, your bones sticking out as if about to tear your flesh."

All mirth was now gone from the younger one. "But you wouldn't look like that?"

Hannibal shook his head. "I would look very pale, but not as skeletal as you. As vampires grow older, the need for blood gets less and less great. Right now, dear William, you need blood to survive. But after, let us say, two centuries, a glass of warm blood would suffice."

At that point, Will could not yet see how such a small amount of blood would be enough for a vampire or why, for that matter, someone would be satisfied with it when they could drain a human almost to the point of death. He did not question Hannibal, though. His maker seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. There was an aura of wisdom emanating from him. Will had the feeling that the knowledge he carried had not been passed on to him by his maker but he had got it, instead, from experience. It made Will wonder about the vampire walking by his side, about his life as a human and his rebirth as a blood-sucking creature of the night. He didn't find the courage to ask, though. Not that night.

That night they shared Hannibal's coffin again. And when he said that they should make arrangements for a second coffin the following night, Will felt a pang of disappointment.


End file.
